Family Ties
by numberoneklutz
Summary: Hermione, the pureblooded heir to the Lovegood fortune, finds herself stuck babysitting her twin half-brothers at Hogwarts. Little did she know those two would bring so many complications, most involving the reigning 'kings' of Slytherin and Gryffindor.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I should probably be updating one of my other stories instead of posting a new one.**

**In my defense, however, I've been suffering through the worst case of writer's block.**

**Seriously, it's like my inspirations taken an extended vacation or something.**

**So, in an attempt to rectify this, I thought I'd start a fresh fic.**

**Who knows?**

**Maybe it's the kick in the rear I need to update my others. **

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Cool amber eyes lazily scanned the letter that had just arrived in that morning's post, inwardly wondering why her mother insisted they keep in touch.

Hermione didn't hate her, or even mildly dislike her, but it sometimes grew tiresome to read and reply to her mother's fumbling attempts at mothering.

She let out a soft sigh as she read through a particularly rambling part in the note. _Study hard to make good grades? _The curly haired witch fought the urge to shake her head. _My mother _she thought with a touch of dejection _really does know __**nothing**__ about me._

It, however, wasn't her mother's fault they had grown so estranged from one another; it was really all due to the less than pleasant circumstances surrounding her birth.

Her mother was a pureblood, known in the British wizarding community as the Lovegood squib, who made little contact with the magical world once she became of age; with the exception, of course, of her twin brother and her parents.

Her mother had never really talked to her older and younger brother or her two older sisters, finding their disdain of her too much to handle; disgusted with her family, she hadn't even talked to her _twin_ brother until her parents disowned him for marrying a mudblood.

Though her mother spent most of her time attending a university in muggle London, she did occasionally visit her childhood home. These visits were rare and brief due to the mutual dislike between Hermione's mother and grandparents, really done only out of familial obligation.

It was on one of these visits that her mother had met _him_…her biological father, Parkinson.

Parkinson, unhappily engaged at the time, had been attracted to her mother's beauty and charm; and her mother, still subconsciously yearning for the approval of her parents, found the man's status and lineage appealing.

They, unknown to her mother's parents and her father's fiancée, began seeing each other. Things between them, in fact, escalated to the point of her mother becoming pregnant.

And that's when things turned ugly.

When her mother, radiant with joy and sure of his affection for her, had shared the news with her lover, he had been _horrified_.

He, after regaining his composure, had coldly informed her mother that her unborn child could never be a Parkinson; and that she, a squib, could never hope to be one either.

Hermione's _fucktastically_ wonderful father had married his fiancée the following week.

Her mother, heartbroken and desperate, had turned to her parents for help. They, though not happy about how it came about, surprisingly welcomed the prospect of a grandchild.

So, since her mother was still a student in college, Hermione spent the early part of her childhood being raised solely by her maternal grandparents.

Later, after her mother stabilized her situation, she started living off and on with her. This had worked out fine in the beginning, and Hermione had just started to become accustomed to having her mother around, but then…her mother got a boyfriend.

The man's name was Peter Granger, a nice muggle who shared her mother's dream of becoming a dentist. It had been love at first sight for the two, and, after a yearlong courtship, her mother became Mrs. Granger.

The couple settled down in a nice two story townhouse and started a practice together, and soon after, a family. Hermione hadn't begrudged her mother her happiness, after all she had been through, she deserved it.

But, though her mother tried to make her feel as if she belonged in their new family, Hermione always felt alienated in their home; _especially_ after the arrival of her twin half-brothers.

The young witch, though barely five at the time, couldn't help but notice the awkwardness her presence caused, how her mother's eyes darkened with regret and heartache every time they fell upon her, how her stepfather carefully hid the resentment he felt towards her for being a painful reminder to her mother.

She tried to remain oblivious, just like she tried to ignore the way both their faces lit up whenever they were with her brothers…her _half_-brothers.

But, though young, she was not that stupid. Gradually, she shortened her stays at the Granger house, opting to stay with her grandparents instead.

She knew her choice had hurt her mother, but she also knew that this would make her mother happier in the long run.

And now, years later, she knew she'd made the correct decision.

Her mother was still happily married and seemed to be even more in love with her husband than she had been on their wedding day. She, the few times Hermione saw her, also glowed in maternal satisfaction when speaking of her two little darlings, Henry and Paul, now eleven year old preteens.

In fact, the only damper on her mother's happiness seemed to be _her_, the unwanted bastard daughter.

_I_ _will never understand that woman, _Hermione thought in puzzlement. _Why try so hard to keep in contact with the one thing that brings you misery?_

The brunette witch appreciated the effort, she really did, but she wished her mother would just end this farce of a mother-daughter relationship.

They had never been close, and they most likely never would be; so Hermione saw no point in her mother putting herself through the misery of facing her unpleasant past just to talk with her, a daughter she never really got the opportunity to love or bond with.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she returned to reading the letter, inwardly grimacing at the uncomfortable formality of it.

Her mother's letters were always carefully worded, to the point of being nauseatingly polite, and slightly stilted, as if her mother wasn't quite sure what to tell her.

They were, simply put, awkward.

Finally seeing the end of the letter, the curly-haired brunette let out a soft sigh of relief. _There are only_ _so many reminders of good dental hygiene that a person can stand and __**still**__ retain their sanity, _she thought in mild exasperation_. _

Just as she had begun pondering the effectiveness of dental hygiene reminders as instruments of torture while absentmindedly finishing her mother's letter, one sentence derailed her train of thought entirely.

_Is she __**serious**__? _Hermione incredulously reread the sentence, disbelieving that life had thrown yet _another _curveball her way. _I don't know why I'm so surprised _she thought wryly. _Since when have things in __**my**__ family gone according to plan?_

Breathing in deeply, resigned amber eyes focused on the last chapter in her mother's lengthy message. _So my half-brothers are wizards then _she mused, her eyes intently studying the end of the letter. _Why would mother feel the need to personally tell me? She could have simply told mum and papa, they would have relayed the information. _

_Of course, _amber turned slightly bitter as it finished the message. _She wants me to 'ease their way into wizarding society'_. Hermione let out a derisive snort at the thought. _Typical, just __**bloody**__ typical. _

She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she studied her mother's thinly veiled request. _Why_ her eyes narrowed in disgust _doesn't she just come right out and say it? _

This was the other reason she disliked keeping in touch with her mother; her mother's dogged attempts to get her grandparents to accept her mother's new family.

_I wouldn't mind it so much if she didn't __**insist**__ on using me, _the brunette thought irritably.

Every letter, without fail, her mother would subtly try to persuade her to patch things up between her grandparents and her mother's family.

…as if a few kind words from her would _suddenly_ makes things better.

If her mother truly believed _that_, then the delusional woman greatly underestimated her grandparents' disdain for muggles.

They weren't exactly muggle-haters per say, they just saw non-magical beings as inferiors; and muggles just happened to fit that criteria. So, naturally, anything relating to or pertaining to muggles was distasteful to them. Hermione herself was indifferent; as long as muggles didn't cause her or her loved ones any problems, she was perfectly fine with them. She, however, wouldn't take any great pains to defend them.

Which put her in a sticky situation with her mother and her mother's family.

_I've never spoken to mother's husband or her sons and I haven't seen any of them in over seven years. So what _she wondered _makes her think I'll feel any obligation to grant her this request._

What new scheme was her mother up to?

The annoyed brunette felt the beginnings of a tension headache forming. _I __**hate**__ it when mother attempts to include me in her plots._

Her mother may be a squib, but she was the most clever, most intelligent, woman Hermione had ever met; an impressive feat, especially so when considering that the Lovegood clan was dominated by Ravenclaws.

Gingerly rubbing her throbbing temples, the curly-haired witch contemplated her next move. _I'm fairly certain this request for my aid is just a ploy to bring her family into contact with mum and papa. However, knowing mother, _slender brows furrowed in thought, _there's more to this than meets the eye. Question is, what? _

What was she missing?

_Maybe_ _I'm reading too deeply into this, _she mused. _Maybe mother simply wants to bring me closer to her family_. Hermione immediately scoffed at the absurd notion.

The day her mother's motives became that simple to decipher was the day she decided she loathed books.

With a deep sigh, Hermione leaned back into the pillows of her window seat. _I suppose I'll just have to play along for now, _she thought with an internal shrug.

Comfortable with her decision, the brunette witch lazily reached for her quill and parchment. _Since mother wants to play_ amber eyes sharpened _let the games begin_.

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The next day Hermione found herself studying a sturdy oak door in front of her, reluctant to ring the doorbell. _Come on Hermione, _she coaxed herself, _the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can complain to Luna about it_.

Softly sighing, she brought her hand up and pushed the buzzer. With her current mood being as dismal as it was, the resulting rings brought to mind one of her favorite poems by Poe. _Bells, bells, bells_, _to the moaning and the groaning of the bells, _she thought wryly.

Though Poe was a muggle writer, she wasn't one to snub literary genius.

A few hurried footsteps and seconds of jostling the doorknob later, Hermione found herself face to face with her mother. _That was fast_.

Both women stood awkwardly for several seconds, neither of them sure how to greet the other. _I should have thought to prepare conversation starters, _she mulled, vaguely amused at how ill at ease they were with each other. _Perhaps then our meeting wouldn't be so painfully awkward_. The curly-haired witch shifted uncomfortably in the extended silence as her mother nervously tucked her blonde locks behind her ears.

The silence stretched on.

_Well_ _isn't __**this**__ a model mother-daughter moment, _Hermione mused sarcastically. She idly studied the line of ants marching by their feet in an effort to ignore their mutual discomfort. _I think this is a new record for us, _her mouth twisted into a humorless smile,_ uneasy silence within our first second with each other_.

Any casual observer would be shocked to find they were mother and daughter. Their stances and behavior more aptly suitable to a meeting between strangers than one between family.

The thought tickled the twisted side of Hermione's sense of humor. _Our __**closeness**__ really is quite astounding,_ the corners of her mouth quirked into a sharp grin.

The brunette gave her head a rough mental shake after the snarky thought. _Since when did I become so cynical?_ She vaguely wondered. If she wasn't careful, she could very well end up sounding like Professor Snape; and as much as she admired the man, she wasn't particularly keen on emulating his personality.

Seeing that her mother was not making a move to speak, even though they'd been mutely standing for several minutes already, Hermione began to wonder if the entire visit would be spent in silence.

Just as she was contemplating the rudeness of apparating back home, and close to damning the consequences, the sound of two bickering voices caught her attention.

"Mom said to wait in the living room!"

"But they're taking _so_ long," the other reasoned, "don't you want to see what they're up to?"

"It's _none_ of our business. You're going to get us in trouble!"

"You don't _have _to come with me you know."

Any response the other boy could've come up with was cut off by an angry Mrs. Granger, whose tense nerves needed an outlet. She tore open the front door and glared witheringly at the two boys who came tumbling out.

"What did I tell you two?" she asked irately.

Cowed by their mother's displeasure, the two meekly responded, "You told us to wait in the living room."

"And _**where**_ are-?"

Sensing that her mother's scolding would unnecessarily lengthen her visit, Hermione decided to politely intervene. "So these two are the ones you want me help, mother?"

The three Grangers turned towards her, the sons looking at her in gratitude. Mrs. Granger sent one last glare in her sons' direction before answering her daughter. "Yes, these boys are your brothers."

Despite being laced with irritation, there was no mistaking the affection in her mother's tone; something that grated on the young witch's nerves. _Where was all this maternal affection when __**I **__was growing up? _She thought bitterly. Forcibly shoving down her resentment, she quickly regained her composure.

Hermione leveled her amber eyes on her mother's pale blue ones, slight disdain in her gaze. "Half-brothers," she corrected coolly.

Her mother flinched at the not-so-subtle reminder, something that didn't go unnoticed by two pairs of perceptive blue eyes. "Perhaps," she said gesturing towards the door, "it would be wiser to continue this inside."

Inclining her head in agreement, the brunette witch followed the three indoors.

Trailing behind the Granger trio, Hermione surreptitiously studied the tasteful, and cozy, decor. _I'm starting to think coming here was a bad idea_. The brunette's face hardened as she discreetly studied the various family pictures adorning the mantelpiece, not noticing a single one of her among them. _We've never been family, and I'm -apparently- too bitter to start pretending we're one now. _

She abruptly stopped at the entryway to their living room.

She couldn't do this.

If she continued on, her anger and resentment towards her mother and her mother's family was bound to leak out, and that was just unacceptable. She was a logical, rational creature; it disgusted her that she was being so _bloody _emotional about this.

A good Lovegood, as her grandparents had drilled into her at a young age, must remain detached from their feelings, must not let fickle things like emotions dictate their actions.

Since her desire to leave stemmed from her feelings of bitterness, she supposed it was a little too late to strictly adhere to that principle; but, with her departure, she could at least keep her mother and her mother's family ignorant about her feelings towards them. Satisfied with her justification, the brunette angled her body to leave.

"This was a bad idea, mother." Her face schooled itself into a perfect mask of apathy as she regarded the seated blondes. "I think it would be best if I just left." Hermione turned her back on them as she stepped into the hall. _This is the __**last **__time I attempt to connect to this family_.

"Hermione, wait!" The young witch felt a warm hand snag her elbow. Immediately stiffening at the unwanted contact, she firmly tugged her elbow away. "Yes?" she politely questioned, amber eyes darkening in irritation.

Sensing her hostility, her mother removed the offending hand. "Will you at least listen to my proposal? Please? You're brothers aren't that bad, and they could really use your help," warm blue eyes silently pleaded with her.

_Should've known she'd make this difficult_. "Half-brothers," she corrected halfheartedly, the word carrying less frost than she'd intended it to. _Why do I always fall for the puppy eyes? _

Her mother instantly brightened. "Sorry, my mistake," she said, not sounding very sorry at all. "Come on, let's join them."

An annoyed Hermione followed the suddenly cheerful blonde. _When did I ever bloody agree? _She inwardly grumbled, having the distinct feeling that her mother had somehow duped her; those misty blue eyes had been _too_ perfect to be genuine. Still sore at having fallen for her mother's little act, she entered the living room.

The curly-haired witch took a seat on an overstuffed chair, the one that was furthest away from the other three without making it look obvious.

Another stretch of silence ensued as the four awkwardly looked at each other.

_Not __**again,**_she groaned. _Silence is a virtue and all, but __**this **__is just overkill_.

Since no one seemed inclined to talk, and since Hermione was keen on keeping the visit short, she broke the silence. "How much do they know?" Though the question was directed at her mother, she trained her evaluating gaze on her two fidgeting half-brothers.

"We keep in close touch with your Uncle Edmund, so the boys are familiar with wizarding life and culture." The beautiful blonde paused, her azure eyes going soft with worry as she gazed on her sons. "But they don't know the inner workings of wizarding society and they have only a vague notion on how dangerous times are in the wizarding world."

Hermione leaned back in her seat, her mind mulling over the information, pondering over the words that were not spoken. "So," sharp amber eyes bore into her mother, "you want me to baby-sit them." She rubbed her temples as she felt the beginnings of a tension headache. _Why is it that I always get headaches when dealing with mother? _She groused irritably. "And I don't have an uncle named Edmund," she added as an afterthought.

The boys, who had been silent up to the moment, exclaimed in outrage at her words, both for different reasons.

"We don't need a babysitter!" Henry –or was it Paul?- shouted.

"Of _course _you have an Uncle Edmund!" Henry/Paul yelled. "He's mom's twin brother!"

Hermione's headache was developing into a steady pounding, and their continued rants _really_ weren't helping. She rubbed her temples more firmly. _Hexing them will only make matters worse, _she reasoned. _Even though it would be __**extremely**__ satisfying_.

Flashing amber eyes snapped open, quashing all further protests from them. "_I_ never said you needed a babysitter," she narrowed her gaze on the subdued boys, "_mother_ did. And mother's twin was disowned by the Lovegood family before I was born, so I _don't _have an uncle named Edmund."

"It doesn't _matter_ if he's disowned!" one of the two growled in righteous fury. "He's _still_ family!"

Seeing that her daughter's patience was wearing thin, Mrs. Granger cut in. "This is _exactly _what I mean, Hermione. They don't know how wizarding families function, what is and what isn't acceptable behavior."

Both boys looked slightly betrayed at their mother's statement. They, however, remained quiet, sensing the severity of the situation.

Hermione, on the other hand, looked puzzled. "They're half-bloods, mother, Lovegood half-bloods that aren't recognized by the Lovegood family." Her brows furrowed in confusion. "They will not be held to pureblood standards nor will they be openly welcomed by wizarding society. So why do you want them to learn society rules and pureblood doctrines?" Her words, though harsh, carried no bite.

Solemn azure eyes met perplexed amber, "I _want_ them to be recognized, Hermione. They are both wizards, the Lovegood family can't ignore them forever."

Hermione's features slightly softened in sympathy, "You underestimate our family's tenacity, mother."

"No," her mother responded as a soft smile curved her lips, "I just have great faith in you."

At her words, all traces of softness left Hermione's features. "You're a fool if you think I can single-handedly get the Lovegood family _and_ the rest of wizarding society to recognize your sons, mother." She shook her head as her mother opened her mouth to protest. "I'll do my best to shield them from the war and from harm if you wish, but that is _all_. I'm not a miracle worker."

"I'm not asking for a miracle. Even I, as cut off as I am from that world, have heard of your intelligence and accomplishments." Her mother's face lit up in pride. "You hold great influence and prestige in the magical world, Hermione. If _you_ recognize Henry and Paul, the others eventually will as well."

"So you want to use me?" the brunette questioned coldly. "It doesn't surprise me really, why else would you ask me to visit?"

She rose from her seat, ignoring her mother's earnest protests that that was not the case. "My offer still stands," she assured the blonde female detachedly while smoothing down her skirt. "I assume they're going to Hogwarts?"

Hermione's closed off expression discouraged additional conversation. So, sighing softly in resignation, her mother mutely nodded her head.

"I suppose I'll see them in September then," without further ceremony, the young witch left the house.

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**Though this story is listed as a Draco/Hermione, it's really a Hermione/multiple.**

**Not sure what the final pairing will be.**

**But I'm leaning towards Hermione getting more than one fella.**

**Later.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it's been forever and a year since I've updated, well, anything.**

**And to make matters worse, I don't even really have a good excuse for not doing so.**

**It's just writer's block and my own lack of motivation preventing updates.**

**Ugh.**

**But I will try harder to make sure such a large period of inactivity doesn't happen again.**

**On to the story!**

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"Well _she_ was just a barrel of laughs," Henry groused, glaring at the living room door. "With _that_ sparkling personality I bet she's always the life of the party."

"I agree," Paul grumbled, "I just don't get how she can be related to us," the huffy boy grumpily crossed his arms, "there's not even the slightest family resemblance that I can see."

Mrs. Granger couldn't help smiling slightly at the theatrics of her two boys. "You two shouldn't be so hard on your sister," she chided gently. "She's doing me a great favor by agreeing to look after the both of you." She held a hand up to stifle their protests. "She's under no obligation to do so," her eyes became shadowed as she gazed at the living room door. "In fact, I'm surprised she even agreed to come visit us."

Paul narrowed his eyes in confusion, "Why wouldn't she have mum? You're her mother; of _course_ she'd visit you."

Elaine Granger was reminded of just how little her two boys knew. Softly sighing, she drew her sons into her arms. "Not every child is close to their mother," she told them, her blue gaze filled with regret. At their questioning faces, she gave a sad smile and pulled them closer to her. "Some," she whispered, "would prefer not to have anything to do with them."

Seeing her son's about to comment, her arms tightened in a silencing squeeze. "There are some things you should know in order to at least partially understand your sister's behavior, so listen closely." Two pairs of intelligent blue eyes, so closely mirroring her own, shone with compliance.

"I was a terrible mother to Hermione," she began, "practically cast her off to my parents to raise." Elaine's eyes glittered in self-hatred, remembering her past mistakes. "Not only that, but when I finally reached the point where my life was stable enough for me to take care of her, I rejected her." Her smile grew bitter, "I _rejected_ her, rejected my own _daughter_."

The twins' heads whipped up, shocked at their gentle mother's words. She looked down at them with a self-depreciating smile. "The circumstances surrounding your sister's birth were…," her eyes became distant as she lost herself in her memories, "unpleasant," she murmured.

She gave another sigh, forcing her mind back into the present, "And I subconsciously rejected Hermione because of that, rejected her to the point where she willingly chose her grandparents over her own mother."

The blonde woman wrapped her arms more securely around her sons, as if to protect them from the very thought of her parents' elitist views.

"And my parents aren't always the most nurturing of people," bitterness welled up inside her. "They have strict ideals on what a _proper_ Lovegood is, and have molded Hermione from a young age to fit them."

Anger seeped into the Granger matriarch's eyes as she thought of her parents and their _bloody_ pureblood beliefs. "It's a miracle she doesn't hate us with the upbringing she's been through," she whispered.

"Are they really that awful?" Paul's voice was hesitant, as if unwilling to comprehend that such animosity existed in his family.

Elaine ran a hand through her son's blonde locks, "Sweetheart, to them we don't really exist." A wry smile crossed her lips, "After all, the family only acknowledges _proper_ Lovegoods."

Her sons were outraged.

"How can we _not _exist?" Henry demanded, bolting up from his seated position in his anger. "We're _here_ aren't we, we're bloody breathing _aren't_ we?"

"Henry! _Language_." Elaine's eyes flashed in warning.

"I'm sorry mum, but _that_ side of the family just sounds like a sodden load of pricks!"

His mother gave a noncommittal hum. "As horrible as they may sound, Henry, the Lovegood family is among those most tolerant of non-purebloods in wizarding society."

Two incredulous pairs of eyes turned her way.

"_Tolerant?_" Paul scoffed. "They don't _sound_ like a very tolerant crowd to me."

"Which is precisely why I want your sister to look after you two. Despite your opinion of her," she gave her sons an admonishing look, "you sister is held in high esteem in the wizarding world. With her as your protector, people would think twice about harming you."

Paul looked at his mother, his slight fear carefully hidden. "Is it the wizarding world that dangerous?"

Solemn blue eyes regarded them, "It can be sweetheart, but that's where you two belong." A soft smile graced her lips, blue hardening in determination. "Whether the Lovegoods like it or not, you're family and you deserve a place in wizarding society."

Henry leaned towards his brother, viewing with trepidation the flames dancing in their mother's eyes, "Something tells me things are about to get messy."

Paul merely nodded.

* * *

Luna looked up from her book at the sound of approaching footsteps, dreamy blue eyes taking quick note of the stormy expression on her cousin's face. Instinctively recognizing Hermione's need to vent, the blonde witch marked her place and closed her book with a decisive snap.

"Have you had a bad run in with the Abatwa cousin?" Concerned blue eyes peered closely at the brunette, "If so, I'm sure father has some crushed Abada horn to cure the poison from their arrows."

Hermione, having long become accustomed to Luna, wasn't fazed in the slightest by her cousin's strange greeting.

"I should _never_ have gone over there Luna," amber eyes flashed in anger. "I _knew_ mother was up to something and I _knew_ she would attempt to manipulate me into helping her. So _why_ the bloody hell did I still go?"

The blonde kept silent, knowing her furious cousin didn't expect an answer.

"I'll tell you why," Hermione whispered darkly, "because I'm a damned fool. A damned fool who allows herself to be caught up in the same trap over and over, each time with the _naïve_ belief that the outcome will be different."

Blue eyes darkened in understanding. _So that's where she disappeared to this afternoon._ The normally passive blonde couldn't help the surge of animosity that welled up inside her, hating Elaine Granger for putting Hermione in this state, for making her confident cousin think herself a fool, for raising Hermione's hopes with false pretenses of family kindness and then ruthlessly quashing them.

Because, however fiercely her cousin may deny it, Hermione still harbored some affection for her mother, still yearned to be close to her. Hermione denied this, even to herself, but Luna knew her cousin too well to be fooled.

But anger was not what her cousin needed right now.

"My batches of cinnamon pumpkin muffins never turn out well."

Bewildered amber eyes turned towards the solemn blonde, the out of place comment having completely derailed her train of thought.

A deep sigh escaped the fair haired witch, "I follow the recipe exactly and make sure to use the freshest ingredients, but my muffins always end up being inedible."

"Then _why_ bother with the bloody things," Hermione snapped. "You should just attempt to make another kind."

"Perhaps," Luna agreed amiably, "but those are my favorite and I believe, with time, I'll eventually discover the trick to making them."

"Seems like a fool's errand," the brunette grumbled, "especially when you can just buy or have the sodden things made for you."

"Some things are worth the effort cousin," was the blonde's simple reply.

Hermione's lips, poised for a waspish retort, stilled. Amber eyes narrowed in inquiry, the brunette carefully considered her cousin's words; because, contrary to popular belief, Luna Lovegood was not prone to speech without meaning.

Said Lovegood was currently sitting in a window seat, the perfect picture of serenity and calm assurance.

A small smile quirked the right corner of the brunette's mouth, a mix of exasperation and reluctant cajolement. _Trust Luna to tell me everything will work out by comparing mother and her family to a batch of muffins_, she thought as she regarded the blonde fondly.

Luna patted the spot next to her on the window seat, "Want to talk about it?" The question was free of any pressure, she knowing more than anyone that Hermione did not react favorably towards force.

"Maybe later Luna," the curly-haired witch plopped down into the spot gracefully, a gusty sigh leaving her lips. "For now, I need your help dealing with my upcoming babysitting duties."

The blonde raised a single brow in question. "Babysitting?"

"Do you remember my mother's sons?"

Luna nodded in affirmative.

"Well they got their Hogwart's letters."

The news gave even the dreamy Lovegood pause. "That…may bring some complications."

Hermione gave her a wry glance. "That's putting it lightly. What's worse is that I, for reasons beyond my understanding, agreed to watch over the welfare of those two while they're at school." The brunette shook her head in self-reproach, "What the bloody_ hell_ was I thinking?"

"You were thinking that they're family," Luna moved to lean casually against her cousin. "You were thinking that you were their best chance at remaining unscathed in the wizarding world."

"Perhaps," the brunette tilted her head to rest on Luna's, neither confirming nor denying the reasoning.

"Any ideas on how you're going to go about the protecting?"

"Some, it all really depends on whether or not I decide to publicly acknowledge them as my siblings."

"Hmm," Luna lifted a hand to her chin as she pondered the situation. "If you do it would make confronting the threats to them much easier. On the other hand, those threats would probably be greatly reduced if you don't."

"Precisely, it's really just a matter of choosing the option that has more pros than cons."

The blonde witch's mouth curved in a lazy smile, "Interesting way to word a no-win situation cousin."

"And yet you insist on calling me a paranoid pessimist."

Luna gave a lethargic shrug, "Perhaps a light fae sprinkled dust on you last night or you might have ingested the spores of a good-luck mushroom earlier today."

Hermione just chuckled in response. "You just don't want to admit that you could be mistaken do you?"

The blonde offered a smile in response.

Amber eyes slowly slid down; their owner content to enjoy the peaceful moment with her cousin, knowing they would likely be few and far between in the upcoming year. Eventually, she slanted her gaze toward Luna, "Any thoughts?"

Her cousin's eyes glazed over in thought and, after a moment of consideration, she voiced her opinion. "I think it would be best if you conceal your ties to them, at least for now. It would give us more opportunity to identify and neutralize existing threats."

The older Lovegood nodded against Luna's head. "I was thinking along similar lines, not acknowledging them will also allow me more time to get the family accustomed to their existence."

The blonde's brows furrowed in confusion, "You plan to introduce them to the family?"

Hermione let out an unladylike snort. "Only if I, for Merlin knows what reason, ever feel the insatiable urge to infuriate the family and traumatize those boys. No, it's the thought of me protecting them, not the boys themselves, that I want the family to get used to."

Luna softly chuckled. "Something tells me this next year is going to be…interesting." Then, after a thoughtful pause, she added, "I'll have to make sure to hang baby's breath in all the doorways to attract swamp pixies and their good luck."

Hermione just shook her head, fond eyes glancing at the blonde. "You do that Luna."

* * *

Pansy stared listlessly at the fireplace, tuning out yet another disagreement between her parents. Yet, despite her best efforts, snippets of the argument still penetrated her bubble of indifference.

_"Why don't you just run back to your whore you-!"_

_ "You're one to talk you fucking slut I __**know**__ what you did last-!"_

She wasn't even sure how this latest one had even started. _Something about the drapes? _Probably, her parents were always looking for an excuse to jump at each other's throats.

It was a miracle neither had tried to kill the other off yet. A wry smile crossed her lips, knowing full well that it was only the fear of scandal that kept their murderous urges at bay.

She often wondered why they didn't just separate. Divorce was out of the question of course, the disgrace that would forever be associated with their names would make them permanent social pariahs and their respective family names would bear the shameful stain.

But peacefully separating and living in different households, on entirely different continents if they so wished, free to discretely take up lovers was perfectly respectable. It was, in fact, common practice among couples who had already produced an heir.

Her mother, however, seemed determined to make her father's life a living hell.

Not that she could completely blame her mother; her father had after all cheated on her mother and produced an illegitimate child while they were engaged.

And nothing, not her father's position as her husband or the fact that he fathered her two children, would ever make her mother forgive that. That and…

Pansy tilted her head to look at the tapestry containing her family tree, fond eyes looking at the intricately woven portrait of her half-sister.

That and the fact that her father refused to remove Hermione from the family tapestry. He refused to offer any explanation for it, leaving her mother seething and concentrating all that rage onto her husband and the illegitimate Parkinson.

A soft sigh left her lips as she leaned back into the couch. _As if 'mione's to blame_, she thought irritably.

It wasn't even as though Hermione placed any demands on her sire. In fact, as far as the general populace was concerned, Hermione's father remained nameless.

And the Lovegoods were keen on keeping it that way.

Hermione was their prodigy and the heir to the Lovegood fortune. She was their pride and joy and they would do everything in their power to ensure that no other family ever held any claim on her.

So they were more than happy to keep the identity of her father a secret and demanded compliance from the Parkinsons. And her family, eager to keep the discrepancies of her father quiet, willingly agreed to relinquish any and all rights to Hermione.

That is, all but her father.

Pansy let out a soft sigh as she tucked a sleek raven lock of hair behind her ear, remembering the countless times she'd caught her father in this room with his gaze locked on her sister's portrait. His eyes always glazed over as he lost himself in his thoughts.

She believed this was because her father, despite his past actions, cared for Hermione more than he led others to believe.

Her father may portray himself as a ruthless bastard to the world; a heartless, staunch supporter of the Dark Lord, but she knew better. Lord Parkinson was, above all else, a fiercely protective father. And she knew it pained him that he wasn't able to publically claim his daughter, his first born.

Another sigh left her lips as she considered her somewhat fucked up family. _At least Paxton's somewhat normal_.

Pansy shifted her gaze from Hermione to the smirking boy near her. Her brother, two years her junior, was perhaps the least angst ridden member of their family. But that was most likely because he was completely ignorant of the fucking drama in their family.

I mean it wasn't as if those involved went about proclaiming their issues for the world to know after all. If Parkinsons and Lovegoods had one thing in common, it was their appreciation of discretion. Private matters, in their opinion, should remain private.

So it was easy to keep her clueless brother…well, clueless.

_Speak of the devil_…

A handsome young teenager quietly cracked open the door to the room, slipping silently in. "Merlin, sometimes I can't wait for the term to start." He shook his head, "You should see them Pans, for a second I really thought they'd come to blows."

Her eyes slanted in his direction, her hand surreptitiously flicking her wand in her family portrait's direction to conceal it once again. "Don't be ridiculous, only muggles would be so barbaric." She lifted her nose theatrically, continuing on matter-of-factly. "Our parents are civilized, they'd hex each other." A faint smirk belied her earlier tone.

Paxton snorted. "Yes, because hexing is so much more refined."

"Of course, less likelihood on getting ones robes dirty," she replied airily. The ravenette patted the spot next to her. "Came here to escape the battlefield?"

"Sort of," he plopped down beside her and angled his body to face his sister. "But I also wanted to ask you something."

"Oh?" She raised her brows, "What?"

His eyes locked onto hers, their usual glint of mischief absent. "What was mum talking about when she accused dad of caring for his "illegitimate bastard" more than her?"

Pansy sucked in a sharp breath. _Had the woman gone __**completely**__ mad? _What the hell had her mother been thinking? She knew Paxton was in the house, how the hell could she be so careless?

With a nonchalance that she did not feel, she lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. "She was most likely caught up in the heat of the moment, probably referring to some lover or other of father's having a pregnancy scare."

"_Don't_ lie to me Pans," his eyes flashed in anger, "I'm not an idiot." Pointing his wand at the wall in front of them, he softly whispered the revealing charm for their family portrait. "I know I have another older sibling."

"If you _already_ knew," she told him curtly, "why did you even bother asking?"

"Because I can't figure out the bloody spell that'll show me _who_ it is," he snapped irritably.

Sure enough, as she studied the portrait, the spells concealing Hermione's identity were still in place rendering her image nothing but a large blur.

"What makes you think I'd know?"

"I'm not in the mood to play mind games sis," his brow furrowed in anger. "Didn't you think I'd notice how you and dad spend countless hours in this room? Or how mum avoids this place like the plague? This bloody room, which has no object of interest other than our family portrait."

"Coincidence," she offered half-heartedly.

Her brother was not amused, "I have a right to know Pans, you and our parents have no right to keep this from me."

A mirthless chuckle left Pansy's lips at that statement. "Did you ever stop to think," she asked him in a cutting tone, "that we had a good reason for doing so?"

"I don't care-!"

"Shut up." Blazing dark eyes pinned her brother to his seat, stilling his furious words. "Don't be so self-centered as to think our silence was solely to keep you ignorant. The situation is significantly more complicated than that."

Slightly cowed by his sister's anger, he hesitantly asked, "How so?"

"I think it would be easier to show you rather than explain." With a flick of her wand, Pansy showed him their older sister.

"…sweet Merlin."

Her lips quirked into a wry smile, _that's one way of putting it_.

oxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

**Don't worry everyone; the boys will make their appearance soon.**

**I just had to make sure I introduced all sides of Hermione's dysfunctional family.**

**Just out of curiosity, do y'all have a preferred pairing in mind?**

**This isn't a poll, just one author satisfying her curiosity.**

**But it may or may not influence my decision. ^-^**

**Later.**


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